


Two Losers In Love

by ghostoncemeterydrive



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Frerard, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostoncemeterydrive/pseuds/ghostoncemeterydrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is just a shy loner, or so he thinks, trying to make it through high school. Every day he spends his lunch period in the library pretending to read. He’s pretty infatuated with the library aid, and can’t help but stare. He’s not stalking him or anything, just simply admiring. Maybe the attraction is mutual? Not all love goes unrequited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I feel like a zombie walking through the halls; sluggish, completely emotionless, and apathetic. I probably shouldn't have stayed up ‘til 3 am, watching that Halloween movie marathon. I go through the motions of the mundane school day; that being sleeping in my first two classes because English and algebra II in the mornings are forever irrelevant, and in the next three, reading yaoi or doodling in my notebook instead mastering the amazingly profound and ground breaking skill of note taking. I don’t become an engaged, hardworking student until the last two periods of the day, my art classes. I got lucky and snagged two this semester, making coming to school slightly more bearable and somewhat appealing.

Suddenly the bell rings for “C” lunch, and everyone rushes out the door they were just packed in front of, and guess who’s the last one out of the room. I’m in no rush. “C” lunch is one of, if not the most, crowded lunch periods, so the halls are hell and the cafeteria is pretty much the 9th circle of hell. I just sit and wait until they’re weeded out. I’m not going to the café though; I haven’t eaten lunch at school since freshman year, can’t stand the people and can’t stand the noise. I just go to the library, there’s rarely anyone in there, and I usually read or look at books…well, pretend to read and look at books.

He’s shelving books on the second floor today, this semester’s new library aid. I spot him up there when I walk in. He’s not new to the school, I know that much. The first time I saw him it was a week before my…well I guess our freshman year started at orientation for the new incoming freshmen, which my parents FORCED me to attend, might I add. The school is fucking huge, so part of orientation was a school tour, and he was in my group. I kept my distance, of course, glancing over at him practically every tenth of a second. Shit! I bet I looked like some lame, weird ass, creep. Hopefully he didn't notice. Freshmen orientation was the one and only time I’d seen him before he became a library aid. Again the school is huge, but I still wondered about him, and if I’d ever have him in any of my classes. Even if he did notice the stalker shit, he doesn't remember, he doesn't remember me. That was over two years ago, we’re a few months into the fall semester of junior year now. I've lost a lot of weight since then. I’m not as skinny as my brother, Mikey, though. My hair’s a lot longer too, and dyed black regularly, so I guess I shouldn't dwell too much on him not recognizing me. But he’s hardly changed at all, if anything he’s gotten even more gorgeous since the last I've seen him. The only thing different is the long piece of hair he usually keeps tucked behind his ear. Other than that, still short, pierced, and perfect.

There are two sets of stairs that lead to the second level, so I go up the ones farthest from him. I don’t want him to see me come up, and catch on that the only reason I’m even going up there is because he’s up there, and I’m going up there because I…like him? Do normal people stalk people they like in the library? It’s more than “like”, but not love either, it can’t be. Well, maybe? But how can it? I don’t even know anything about him, not even his name, which is killing me by the way. I maneuver through the rows of bookcases to the tables, trying to ignore my lovesick confusion, and strategically pick one to sit and “read” at. It’s close enough, but also far enough to where my agenda isn't obvious…hopefully. It’s not long before I completely forget to stop staring. God, I’m pathetic, but he’s so beautiful. I can’t help it, and I sure as hell can’t explain it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Alright class, today we-” my English teacher, Mr. Aguilar sighs aggravatingly, “Mr. Way!” He calls out annoyingly, walking towards a sleeping Gerard. He’s snuggled against his backpack like it’s a pillow on top of his desk. “Mr. Way, wake up.” He gives him an abrupt shake. “Why don’t you come sit up front by your brother, and grace us with your full attention.”

Mr. Aguilar is a prick, a dick-wad, an ass-munch, well maybe I’m just grumpy. He could be the really cool guy and awesome teacher everyone talks about. He’s just an ass to me, probably because I do nothing but sleep in his class, but I get my work done, so what’s the big deal? I can feel everyone’s full attention burning holes into my back as I take my front row seat. Yippee.

“Welcome to the front of the class.” Mikey teases playfully.

“Ha-ha, thanks.” I smirk sarcastically; as I pull out my notebook I have no intention of using.

Mikey is my kid brother. He’s supposed to be a sophomore, but skipped up a grade because he’s a fucking genius. He’s already getting dozens of letters from universities that are offering him full scholarships. Since this has all happened, my father seems to just rave on and on about Mikey’s successes, and likes to throw them in my face. “Why can’t you be more like Mikey?” “If you applied yourself like Mikey did, you’d really be something.” “Art is just a hobby, you can’t build a real career off that.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of my brother and we get along fine, but I definitely feel I live in his shadow. My father would never admit it, but it’s obvious Mikey is his favorite, with all the time he spends with him. I understand he is practically a mini version of my father, and I’m a polar opposite, so conversation is a little harder…but still.

~

He’s in the non-fiction section of the library today, which is downstairs way in the back. He’s shelving books as usual, standing on his tip-toes to reach the higher shelves. He’s so goddamn adorable! I can’t help but smile. I have a paper due in a few of days over a book we were supposed to have read by now, Night by Elie Wiesel. It just so happens to be non-fiction, so this is pure coincidence we’re in the same part of the library once again; even though the other times haven’t been. I’m not stalking him…well not today. Nonf-Wie, that’s the location of the book. Nonf-Wie, Nonf-Wie, Nonf-Wie. I should’ve written it down, so I wouldn't forget. I should’ve read the book already. The next few nights will be late ones. I passed him on my way to the aisle where the “W” authors are, not that I looked directly at him, just in my peripheral, but that was a while ago. I don’t know how long I’ve been looking for this damn book! Nonf-Wie my ass, it’s not even here, and I’m sure half the junior class put off reading this thing. Even if it is here, it’s not where it’s supposed to be. I’m not gonna search every single book in this section to find it. Fuck this, I’ll just turn the paper in late.

As I turn to leave the section, “Nonf-Wie?” I hear a voice say behind me.

I turn back around and see it’s him, the library aid. So close to me, with that beautiful voice and exquisite face…

“Is that the book you’re looking for?” He questions kindly.

A moment passes before I realize he’s actually talking to me. “Uhm,” I clear my throat, “Yeah…” I trail off. His eyes are gorgeous…

“A lot of people come in here asking for it.” He laughs, “Someone just returned it today.” He skims through the cart of unshelved books beside him. I smile. This is really happening right now. We’re talking, or he’s talking...to me. I have so many butterflies in my stomach I feel like I’m gonna throw them up. “Oh, here it is!” He holds the found book out to me, and I wonder how many books I’ve touched that he’s shelved.

“Uh,” my voice cracks. Shit! I clear my throat again, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He chuckles, and pats me on the shoulder. He touched me. “See ya’ tomorrow.” He smiles as he grabs hold of the cart.

My eyes widen, “Tomorrow?”

He snorts out a laugh, “You’re in here every day.” He maneuvers the cart around me, and turns down the next aisle.

He goes on shelving books, while I stand there for a moment in utter shock. He talked to me, he touched me, and he notices me. He’s noticed me all this time. I can’t help but have the biggest, cheesiest grin on my face, as I toy with the frayed edges of the book. The bell rings signaling the end of C lunch. I grab my bag, and hurry through the maze of bookcases to check out the book.

“Wow, you’re all smiles today!” the middle-aged librarian chirps cheerfully.

“It’s been an amazing day.” I quietly admit, handing her the book. So apparently I can talk normal now, and not be a nervous, voice cracking mess?

“That’s good to hear. Here you go sweetie.” She smiles giving the book back to me. “It’s due back on the 27th of October.”

I nod, still grinning, and leave the library. I fucking love this book! I haven’t read it or even know what it’s about, but I love it. Nonf-Wie…well Night by Elie Wiesel. Hell, it could be about how to watch paint dry, and I’d still love it. I hold the book up and look at it, oblivious to how strange I look to the sea of students in the hall. This is the symbol of my very first encounter with…GODDAMNIT! His name! I forgot to ask what his name is! This is gonna kill me, I’m such an idiot!

-“See ya’ tomorrow.”-

That’s right, tomorrow. I’ll ask him tomorrow…If I can even talk to him, that went so well earlier. I can feel the nervousness and the butterflies welling up in my stomach already, but today has been the best day I’ve had in a really long time.


	3. Chapter 3

I've just gotten into the library, second level as usual, and no one in sight as usual. I saw him a second ago. I peep my head around the corner of a few bookcases. No one. I don’t wanna be too obvious, but then again he already knows I’m in here every day. I wondered if he knew why, as I grab a seat. He’ll turn up sooner or later. 

Out of nowhere a wad of paper lands next to my forearm. “Psst! Hey!” I hear a whisper coming from the bookshelf beside me. I look over, and there he is peeking through a space between some books on the bookshelf. I get up and step closer, and he pushes the short row of novels aside, revealing the rest of his face.

“Looking for me?” He asks with a lopsided grin. “Name’s Frank by the way.” He says still grinning. So that’s his name. Frank. After all this time I finally know. “I forgot to tell you yesterday.”

It seems that all those conversations I've had with him in my head never happened because my mind goes blank. Maybe it’s because he caught me off guard, or maybe it’s because he’s actually talking to me again. Maybe it’s both. “Uh…I’m Gerard.” I say nervously. For a split second I wonder if he notices.

A shocked expression briefly appears on Frank’s face then turns into a smile, “You’re Mikey’s brother!”

“Uh, yea…You know my brother?” I was more shocked than he was. Mikey isn't really the kind of guy to hang out with misfit types, but maybe I’m being too critical. He used to, but those were pre-student council days.

Frank comes from the other side of bookshelf, and plops down in the chair across from mine. “He tutors me.” He explains, as I sit back down. “I’ve always been pretty shit at algebra.” He shrugs his shoulders, slightly embarrassed.

“Most of us are pretty shit at algebra, that’s why we have to take it twice.” I didn't notice I’d said something funny until he started laughing, which made me blush. He has such a beautiful laugh. After he calmed down, we sat there looking at each other for a moment. He was smiling still, and I was practically fawning over him, which he noticed, and I oh my god I’m such an idiot why would I do that when he’s right in front of me! I looked away swiftly and started toying with the loose threads on the binding of my sketchbook.

Frank chuckles, “You’re so adorable.” He mumbles, so I don’t catch it.

“Huh?” I look back up at him, focusing on not staring for too long.

“Um, nothing.” He notices my sketchbook. “You draw?” He asks excitingly, reaching for the book. On impulse I pull it towards me, but not because I didn’t want him to see it. I immediately regret it because he looks hurt.

“Sorry that was rude. I shoulda asked first.”

“No it’s fine. I…I’m just not used to people seeing my stuff.” This is sounding more like I don’t want him to see my work, so I just put the book down and slide it over to him.

“Are you-are you sure?” he asks, hands ready to flip it open.

“It’s kinda dark. I don’t know if you’re into that kinda stuff.” I warn him.

“Hell yeah, I am! Wouldn’t have it any other way.” And with that he begins looking through the pages. He’s actually really into it, complimenting every sketch he sees, and it’s very flattering. I can’t help but blush again. I answer every question he has about what certain drawings are about, since I like telling stories in my work. We get into long conversations about them, and surprisingly he’s into the same comics and horror films I got inspiration from. The only person who appreciates my art and is this enthusiastic about it is my mom, which I’m happy she is, but it’s really nice to have another person not only like my work, but understand it. Most of the sketchbook is full, and as he nears the end I make a mental note to buy a new one. While he looks over the last few pages, I feel silly for being so nervous earlier because Frank is very easy to talk to, and we’re into a lot of the same things. He’s a really cool guy, which makes him all the more beautiful.

“These are fucking amazing, Gerard!” He tells me, closing the sketchbook. “The way you draw looks familiar.”

“My art teacher puts my stuff up in the art wing some-” Out of nowhere the warning bell rings, which means I have two minutes to get to class. I didn't even hear the first bell, and didn't realize we’d been talking that long. “Shit, I gotta go.” I say, jolting up, and quickly gathering my things. Franks lets out a sigh before sliding the book back over to me. “Thanks,” I grab it and put it in my bag, and sling it on my shoulder. When I look at him he looks sad. 

“You’ll be here tomorrow, right?” He tries to keep up with me as I walk as fast as I can without having to run.

“Of course. I’m in here every day remember.” I smile.

When me make it to the entrance Frank leans against one of the open library doors, hands in his pockets. “See you tomorrow!” he grins. 

Walking backwards, I wave at him, still smiling “See, ya!” With that, I turn on my heel and speed off to class.

Frank stands there in the doorway until Gerard turns the corner, with an ear-to-ear smile. After a moment he walks back into the library, and up the steps to his cart of unshelved books, anticipating tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s nearing the end of October and the coldness of autumn was starting to feel like winter more and more every day. I walk the familiar path, as the wind stirs the sea of leaves covering the ground, making me readjust my scarf and bury my hands deeper into my coat pockets. Mikey rides to school with some friends from one of the billion clubs he’s in every morning, but they leave pretty early for their meetings, and I’d rather sleep than be to school early. I’m more of an ‘arrive right in the nick of time’ kinda guy. So I've had to make the small trek to school alone, but not anymore. Since that day I showed him my sketchbook, Frank and I have spent every day talking in the library, and have become really close friends. I meet him at the gates of a park, cutting through it is a straight shot to school, which was his discovery not mine. He’s there waiting for me, cigarette in hand, leaning against the fence. 

“Hey!” I call out to him, as I get closer. He gives me that smile I grow more fond of day by day, and walks towards me.

“Hey,” He says softly.

“Can I have one?” I ask pointing to his cigarette, after we enter the park.

He raises an eyebrow, “You really shouldn't smoke, Gerard” 

“Says the guy with a cigarette hanging outta his mouth.” 

Frank chuckles and reaches into his pocket and hands me one. “I feel like I’m corrupting you.” He smiles guiltily. 

I light it and inhale, “I've been a smoker long before I met you.” I push him playfully. “Oh! Did you pick up your guitar?” I ask him after a moment. He’d broken it a couple weeks ago and took it in to get repaired.

He perked up “Uh, yea! And they got a new guitar in. It’s gorgeous! I played a few cords and it sounds fucking amazing. It’s so light too. I didn’t have the money for it though, it’s pretty expensive. Oh, that reminds me.” Frank shrugs his bag off his shoulder, unzips it, and pulls out a plastic bag. “I got these for you while I was downtown.” he says, handing me the bag. I look inside and it’s that sketchbook I never remembered to get, and a pack of fucking Copic markers! Those are not cheap. 

I immediately hug him, which surprises him, but he smiles and hugs me back. “You found them?!” I ask in shock, grabbing them out of the bag. They’re usually sold out.

“That was the last pack.”

“Thank you so much, seriously!” I feel bad that he spent so much on me. I didn’t even do anything. He could’ve saved it for that guitar, but I’m also extremely flattered and my cheeks are showing it. “You really didn’t need to get me this stuff.”

“I wanted to.” He blushes, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t be stupid Gerard,” he smiles softly, “I got them for you because I wanted to, not because I was expecting something back from you.” 

He’s fucking sweet. 

“Plus I remember you mentioning them and how rare they are to find in stock, so when I saw them I just got ‘em.” 

And he listens. 

“You don’t need to pay me back, and I don’t want you to.”

He went out of his way to do something nice for me, and just because he wanted to. I’ve become so jaded from people being shit that I’d forgotten how kind some can be, and generous. He’s just, he’s just so nice! 

“You’re amazing, Frank.”

He blushes again, putting his hands in his pockets. He drops his gaze to his old sneakers, and opens his mouth to say something, but closes it. Frank looks up at me quickly and stutters out a “Thank you.”

For a moment we stare at each other, it seems like all noise goes silent. No people, no talking, no cars passing by, just us, and the sound of the wind rustling the leaves. It’s freezing, but I don’t feel so cold anymore. Now, I’m a shy guy okay. I’m a coward, who’s too afraid to go for anything, especially with stuff like this. I’m silent when I should speak up, and I run away when I should stand firm, but all this becomes over powered by this sudden bravery, courage, and clarity I never knew dwelled within of me.  


Just as the wind calms, I grab Frank and kiss him. I kiss him with all the passion and desire I’ve been holding in, since the moment I laid eyes on him back at freshmen orientation two years ago. He kisses me back, pulling me closer, and places his hand on my neck; his cold thumb resting on my jaw. The other grips tightly at the lapel of my coat, and we fall deeper into our kiss. I feel like I’m going to burst, if it’s into tears or laughter, I don’t know, but these feelings are so strong they’re overwhelming. This is so much more than everything I dreamed it would be. The wind picks up again, making the leaves swirl around us. We stand in the middle of it all kissing, and grabbing each other as if someone is trying to break us apart. Needless to say we were late to school.


	5. Chapter 5

Mr. Aguilar gives me detention for being late once again, but it’s not just any detention, it’s Thursday school. Which means I’ll be chilling in the cafeteria with all the class skippers, truancy royalty, this week’s hallway boxing champions, those who are hell bent on challenging authority, and people like me who are serially tardy. It’s three fucking hours long. I won’t be outta here until 5:30 pm. I’m convinced that he’s punishing me for not being like my brother. I take a seat at a table where a guy is dozing so hard he’s going to fall out of his seat, and the girl two chairs over is using a book as a cover to text on her phone. I’ve been here a few times before, and usually we just sit in silence, reading or working on assignments. If Coach Barcheski and Coach Williams are watching us it’s pretty chill. They just talk to each other or to some of us. They don’t care if we talk or are on our phones, they let us go to the bathroom and to the vending machines whenever we want. They’re cool.

If we have Mr. Finn and Mr. Hernon it’s the exact opposite. It’s literally hell. They run things like we’re in a jail, and treat us like we’re hardcore criminals. They don’t talk, they yell. They’re delusional, and of course they’re the ones in charge today. Teachers always come by and pick up their students, so they can do their missing and makeup assignments in their classroom, which is better than being stuck in here because you can leave once you’re done, otherwise you’re in here for the full three hours. Sometimes if the group is large enough, some of us will pretend we’re in a teacher’s class, and just leave when the rest of them go to the classroom. Anything to get outta here is tried at least once.

Mr. Aguilar comes to round up his students, and looks at me with a stupid smirk on his face as if it pleases him to see me this bored out of my mind. Little petty shit like this reminds me that it is truly a work of God that this man is getting married. I bite my tongue and ignore him, but he notices and starts walking over. Gee, my blessings just keep rolling in today. I sigh deeply in annoyance, running my fingers through my hair.  
“Gerard, Gerard, Gerard.” He says as he approaches me, making tsk sounds. “You gonna start coming to my class on time now?” He sits on the edge of the table.

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. “Sure.” I say flatly. I don’t look at him, I stare at the table and wish he would fuck off. He’s been getting more and more under my skin as the semester has gone on. I clench my jaw in an attempt to keep myself from saying something that would earn me a spot in Saturday school, which lasts a full school day. The last thing I need. It’s not fun and adventurous like it is in The Breakfast Club.  
“How is it that your brother is able be in my class on time every day, but you aren't?” He asks sarcastically, with the same smirk on his face. He catches on that I’m ignoring him, and snaps his fingers in my face to get my attention. “I’m sick of your attitude, Gerard. Look at me when I talk to you!” He glares at me.

I shake my head, “Nah.” I say nonchalantly, but inside I’m boiling. I want people to shut the hell up with all their comparisons of me to my brother! My eyes are still fixed on the table. Suddenly he grabs my face to make me look at him. “Don’t fucking touch me!?” I yell, pushing him away, and I stand up. Everyone is staring at us. The girl stopped texting, and the guy that was asleep finally falls to the floor and bolts back up, now wide awake. Mr. Hernon practically sprints over, having saw the whole thing, and gets in his face. They start arguing back and forth, pushing each other, and mostly everyone has their phones out recording everything. Everybody is fucking nuts! I grab my stuff and dart out of there. I feel like I wanna cry, or scream, or both. I don’t know, but I just need to get out of here. 

I go outside to the front of the school and wait for Mikey. He’s on the homecoming committee, and their meeting should be over in a little while. After I calm down a bit, I walk to the side of the school to be out of view so I can smoke. Sitting under a tree, I empty my lungs, as a couple tears run down my face. Mr. Aguilar is crazy. I knew he didn't like me, but shit. At least Mr. Hernon stood up for me. The more I think about it the more I’m surprised. I’d always thought he hated kids with the way he treats us, but maybe it’s just an act. As I smoked the last bit of my cigarette, I wondered what would become of Mr. Aguilar. Hopefully he’ll be fired, or transferred to another school. It doesn't matter just as long as he’s away from me. My dad is gonna lose it when he finds out what happened.

A loud bang fills the air, and a sea of birds fly from the trees, frightened by the noise. I scream. Something fell into the large dumpster to the right of me. I lean forward, trying to see past the tree branches to find out what fell. After a short moment. I see a box fly off the roof and plummet into the dumpster, making the same banging noise when it hit the bottom of it. Not too long after, another large box falls, followed by another, and I briefly see the person’s arms. I thought about calling out to them, but change my mind. Then I see them carry a tall stack a lumpy beige bags, and throw them down into the dumpster. It’s Frank!? I don’t know why, but my immediate response is to hide. So I crouch behind the tree, curiously watching Frank noisily and clumsily throw boxes and bags off the roof. With all the noise he’s making he could get caught. 

I figure he’s done after he disappears, no longer bringing things to throw away. After a few short moments, I check to see if anyone is coming, and head for the ladder attached to the side of the school. I struggle at first because it’s pretty high up. You have to jump and pull up your body weight just to get onto the damn thing. How the hell was Frank able to do this? My knees are sore from them banging up against the wall so many times, but eventually I’m on. I don’t even make it up that far before someone comes around the corner. 

He scares me, and I almost fall off. I wasn't even up halfway, but I was hanging on for dear life. “Goddammit, Mikey!”

“What are you doing?!” Mikey hisses, glancing around to see if anyone is coming. 

“I thought you were someone else.”

“You should be lucky I’m not. What are you doing up there?” He asks again, looking confused.

“I uh, I was…bored?” I’m not the best liar, but I didn't want to rat out Frank.

He rolls his eyes, “Just get down so we can go.” I come down, sling my bag onto my shoulder, and we start heading home. “You sneak out of Thursday school again?” He grins.

I let out a deep sigh. “Not exactly.” I murmur, more to myself than to him. 

He starts going on about homecoming stuff, but all I could think about was Frank. What the hell is he doing up there and why? And why has he kept it from me?


End file.
